Band Aid is an honest film for adults who like marriage, for those who believe in it, fight for it, and want to make it work. Zoe Lister-Jones writes, directs, and stars in this romantic-dramedy that celebrates the beauty and the tension of a good marriage going through a difficult time and finding reconciliation on the other side. It’s raw, it’s bold, and it’s beautiful.
There’s swearing, there’s sex, and there’s harsh name-calling along the way too. Movies that we traditionally associate as celebrating “family values” maybe aren’t as crass, heavy, and vulnerable as this movie, but I think that indicts us more than it does this film. You’re likely to see more truth on screen here than in those “cleaner” films, and isn’t a solid marriage built on honesty anyway? It was a rare treat, especially as a married man myself, to see a rom-com truly about marriage, not just a meet-cute and the start of a new relationship, or worse, about a marriage that fails so a new relationship can begin.
All this may make Band Aid seem like a heart-wrenching, emotional movie about saving a marriage, and it does go to those places, but its playfulness and energy make it a true delight to watch. As the couple begins using music as the outlet for their fights, the movie gets a huge lift from the clever song-writing. Both Zoe Lister-Jones and Adam Pally bring pure fun to the performance of the songs, and Fred Armisen brings the dead-pan awkwardness that has made him famous. There are long stretches of this movie where everything is working at once, from the multiple types of comedy on display to the infectious joy of watching good music being played with glee. The synthesis of styles makes it nearly impossible to prevent the movie from taking you on its emotional journey, all the way from joy to sorrow and back again.
The subject of the final portion of this movie pops up as bits and pieces along the way, and then erupts fully. There is a severe emotional trauma underneath this couple’s petty arguments that, when it finally comes to the surface, proves itself to be too hard to sing away. The movie takes a pointed turn as we begin to see the source of their shared pain and their inability to not only cope individually, but to acknowledge the distinct experiences of the other’s grief. Rather than sharing the grief of their mutual trauma, they experience It separately and silently judge the other. The film takes a moment to meditate on the way that men and women experience the world differently and how that leads to processing everything from grief to love to intimacy differently. The script here very delicately handles the fact that it’s doing a bit of “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”-ing, and even jokes about its own heteronormativity, but the performances lend an honesty and credibility to the film that made it at least forgivable, if not universally relatable.
While Wonder Woman is filling the headlines (and rightfully so) with praise for a female-led blockbuster with a female director, Band Aid very quietly, in the same opening weekend, boasts a female writer/director/star triple-threat and a historic first, all-female crew. Besides the males in the cast, Band Aid is made entirely by women from start to finish, and it is a wonderful film. It may grab fewer headlines and far fewer box-office dollars, but for my money, Band Aid is a must-see milestone from a female filmmaker whose work I will be following with anticipation from here on out.
